Unlabeled
by Debbiemay1991
Summary: I never knew what happend to my parrents. Only that they were dead. I don't remember the stories they told me and the life I lived. When I was eleven something happend And I don't know what and nobody tells me.
1. The awaiting prologue

1. The awaiting prologue

I stood there only to wait for her. Not caring if she came late, because one way or another she would pass by she always did.

She never noticed me, nor did she care to see. She thought she was invisible to the world but everybody saw her. But she failed to see herself.

There was something about here, something special.

She was always popular by the guys, and envied by the girls. Again she didn't notice.

She was always loved and cared for. Loveable parents, but they died young.

For the rest she had a happy life. She always said she would get her happily ever after, because she promised her parents.

But she can't have it, nor can I.

I could have given her the happily ever after, but she never noticed me. And because of that she would pay. Pay because she denied me. Pay because she didn't take the offer.

It was 9 December 1997. Six years ago that faithful day her parents died or rather say murdered. A lost case they called it, they couldn't find the evidence that leaded to the murderer or what they rather called it animal.

That day the snow kept flowing gently to the ground but when it finally landed it was already gone.

She was dropped off by another child's mother from school. I remember she stared up to the grand Victorian house already knowing that something was off. You could easily read that of her face. She stepped forward hesitantly not sure of what to do. But bravely she took more steps forward until she reached the front door.

The front door nobody answered, so she tried the back. The keys always hang on the same place, the dream catcher. But she didn't need them because her parents where home weren't they? The door was unlocked so she came in and noticed how silent it was. And as she walked through her living room to the kitchen she got the scare of her short 11 years of life.

Her dearly beloved father lay there emotionless on the floor. A stake through the heart bloodied and battered. And then she saw her beloved mom. Skinned for life barely hanging on her red life wire.

Literally translated hanged.

Her mother tried to struggle out of it, but she only made it worse. You could easily see the life was slipping out of her like a candle in its last seconds. She tried to make her vocals sound, but was silenced by her last beat of the heart.

It was the cruelest thing she ever saw. I know because I startled myself of the horrid job I committed. She just needed to be mine and her parents were just standing in my way. So they needed to be eliminated. Now there was nothing standing between us. So now was my chance to let myself known I walked out of the corner where I stood waiting. And called out her name but she didn't hear she was weeping over her parents death. I called her again and again until I got her attention but the length of it was only a second or two. Then see began crying again. I didn't understand this wasn't supposed to happen. She should have stand up and run to me for to seek any kind of support and I would give her that support to build a band with her. So I could ask her later if she wanted to come with me. So we could live together and eventually when she got older she would learn to love me. But she didn't run towards me. And that made me mad. So mad that I almost didn't hear the police sirens come closer. Shoot, I had forgotten the neighbors they must have heard something. We needed to get out of here but there wasn't time to collect her. So I fled alone.

Of course over the years I tried to grab her attention in a different way than to kill her parents because of the way she reacted. But every time she just didn't noticed or she saw me and she got that distant look in her eyes. It made me boil with madness. I tried so hard. To contain my anger but when I heard what the boys in her school were saying I snapped. If I can't have her no one will.

Please tell me what you think should I continue? Or not? Please help. Bad or good reviews are welcome.


	2. The looks, the likes and the leftover

2. The looks, the likes and the leftover

"I'm just a normal 17 year old girl" I said to convince myself. But when I looked in the mirror my last thought flew out of the window. Who was I kidding. Myself that's for sure. No when I looked in to mirror I saw no reflection of a normal girl. I saw a strange girl maybe even weird. No wonder the kids at my old school always stayed out of range by me. I knew for sure that I wasn't ugly maybe you could even consider me beautiful if you could see trough all the flaws. With big capital letters **IF**. But no one could. They always saw what I see in the mirror. A 5.8 feet girl that's to pale that you could almost look through her. You would even think I could work like a flashlight or a lighthouse because I was so pale. And because I was so see trough you could see every scare at my body. And believe me that are quite a few. I was also to thin not the sickly kind, but the kind when you are allowed to say that you have absolutely no curves at all. Now that wasn't all that weird was it? Maybe a little but it gets a lot stranger than that. I have for instance unruly long brown wavy hair that reaches my mid back, but there's also running one white streak through it. It's the hair lock in front of my face and it freaks everyone out and on top of that I have two very icy blue eyes. So if you put that all together I look just like an ice queen. Not that I have the personality of one (I think?) but just the looks.

Now back to the scars I have a large one in my neck like a scrape only it's 0.8 inch thick and it runs from the back of my neck to the front of my collar bone I got it in a car accident when I was twelve years old I came out unscathed except for my then foster parents Tom and Will. They didn't like me so they decided after a month that they would do me away. Just like a clothing piece you thought you liked but at home when you look at it again you absolutely hate it.

It went on for years people adopted you but after a while they would call the agency. Telling them I wasn't bubbly like other young girls. That I got all shaky when someone touched me. That I read to much. That I wasn't pretty enough. Or that they wanted someone younger.

After a while the agency didn't sent me out anymore. And you got stuck at the house where you see years after years of all the other kids getting adopted and never returning.

"Isabella!!!" a voice rose from below the stairs.

The house grew quiet in seconds. "Oh no, here we go again." I stumbled out of the room down the three stairs. I lived on the attic of a very small but high house. When I got into the living room I noticed something was off. Mrs. Delanée was sitting in the corner chair. This was going to be one hell of a bad day.


End file.
